Numinous
by Scruff the Rat
Summary: Even after losing everything else, Asgore can always count on his old friend to be there for him. Rated for mild violence.
1. Howdy

**I'm currently experiencing a writer's block of sorts, so I decided to drop in this chapter I've had in the drafts for a while. Hope ya'll enjoy it!**

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Snow crunched under heavy footsteps, crickets chirped in the distance, and a cape of violet satin fluttered in the wind as its owner trekked down the pathways outside of Snowdin.

Despite the neutral calm in his countenance, the caprine giant huffed out of nervousness continually, his breath condensing in the freezing air. Why though? Monsters had finally acquired the liberation they sought for so long; that called for celebration! Yet even while most of the populace indeed shared rejoice in the wake of new freedom, there were those who stuck to old ways out of habit.

The latter, Asgore could not fault. In fact, he intended to see one of them.

Soon enough, the massive monarch came across the ledge that overlooked a single cabin in the distance. He paused for a moment to take in the sight of the lonely abode, its usual marigold lights absent. He sighed, wishing the monster he wished to see had been there instead, but this inconvenience couldn't be helped.

Firming his stance, he briskly turned away from the edge and walked down the tunnelway behind him. The snow could not follow him inside, so the path of bluish-purple soil remained bare.

In just a few minutes, Asgore reached the end of the tunnelway where he merged into a cavern illuminated by glowing sapphire mushrooms in the corners. Here he came face to face with a purple door emblazoned with the Delta Rune, a symbol laden with memories of a burden no longer his yet still heavy on his conscience. Asgore shook his head to will the damning thoughts away. With a deep sigh, he regained his confidence and approached the doorway, where he administered a series of firm knocks on the door then waited.

No response, so he tried again. When still no response came, he tried once more and waited a little longer.

After the fifth time, his face started to scrunch. While Asgore knew the value of patience, under these circumstances the goat monster felt the news could not wait.

Raising his left hand to the door, he pressed the parts of the Delta Rune symbol like buttons, beeps following suit. An affirmative ding echoed in the small cavern as the door slip upward into the ceiling, revealing a futuristic blue and cyan hall reminiscent of the CORE and its corridors. The moment he stepped in, the door closed behind him but Asgore paid it no mind. The king continued his trek, this time with more apparent hesitation. As the neon green lights above illuminated him, he made certain to avoid looking at his reflections in the metal floor and walls lest he gave himself a reason to back out.

Not that he had any reason to be afraid, let alone nervous. After all, this wasn't Toriel he intended to...okay, not a good train of thought. Still, for some reason, Asgore couldn't help a pang of apprehension at the prospect of breaking the news to—

Mumblings by a smooth baritone voice laced with a British accent reached Asgore's ears, mild-mannered swears interspersed among engrossed commentary. Pausing, the goat monster craned one of his long ears for a better listen.

"Alphys. For the last time, I will come to the surface by my own accord...No, that isn't...I'm old enough to know better than that, young lady. Now if you'll excuse me, I have matters to settle." Asgore smiled once he noticed the sound of footsteps coming his way. He heard a sigh follow. "Fine. Just make sure the monsters on the surface are looked after. I'll do the same for everyone still down here. Alright, goodbye."

As the source drew closer, Asgore noted the rustle of a phone being inserted into something fabric. That's when his eyes caught the somewhat Toriel-sized figure fading in from the shadows of the hall: a chubby cat monster with chocolate-colored fur, sandy brown underbelly and inner ears save for the thick white streak that ran down their chin like a beard, thick round black eyebrows, and a sizable white Monopoly-style mustache extending from their large ebony nose. Their visible attire consisted of a navy blue trench coat, matching trousers and gloves, black scarf and brown dress shoes, and a single monocle over the left eye with a gold chain streaming into the coat.

Asgore held back a chuckle at both the swishing white-tipped tail and the paternal scowl of the feline, whose dark forest-iris eyes remained on the ground and hands in the pockets of their coat. "How this is the same girl," the cat murmured to himself, "who willingly spends her free time watching those transparent excuses for animation, I'll never—"

"Galileo?"

The well-dressed cat started at the king's deep voice with a gasp, eyes wide for a moment, but then quickly recovered his composure once he recognized him. Relaxing, he briefly bowed his head in acknowledgement. "My king. What brings you here?"

Asgore chortled kindly. "You are the one with so many cameras at your disposal, Professor," he gestured a hand out, "Why not tell me instead?"

Galileo shifted his eyes back to the floor and shuffled his feet in an abashed manner. With everything else going on, he had overlooked the larger monster's approach. He internally scolded himself for allowing such a sloppy mistake to occur. A meaty hand on his back brought the smaller monster's attention back to Asgore, who stood over him with a soft assuring smile.

"May I accompany you on your way home? There are details I wish to discuss with you, and personally I believe doing so would be easier in a cozier setting."

As the monarch took his hand away, Galileo cleared his throat. "Yes, well. I, um...would be honored to allow you into my home. You know you don't need my permission to visit, however. It is a king's duty to watch over his subjects, after all."

"True," Asgore agreed. He shrugged with a more sheepish face, "though to come unannounced would be rude regardless. I know how much you pride yourself on presentation."

Galileo shook his head with a good-natured scoff before walking off for the exit, Asgore keeping in stride. "You seem to have me confused for a certain idol—not that Mettaton fails at lasting impressions." He sidled a questioning gaze his companion. "I take it by 'details', you refer to our people's newfound freedom...or more precisely the ramifications."

Asgore nodded, face now somber. "As joyous as this occurrence is, it leaves me concerned for monsterkind's reunification with the human world. Much time has passed since our imprisonment and though humans seem to have lost touch with their affinity for magic, they have compensated for that drawback with," Asgore shivered for a reason unrelated to the cold, "...terrifying alternatives. If not for your spider-bots and the information they've relayed—"

"Our reunion with them would prove even more of a gamble. Not that this situation lacks its own risks." Galileo twisted his lips into a wry smirk. Ah the advantages of constructing surveillance bots without magic so they could freely pass through the barrier. They'd been half the reason monsters managed to learn of amenities like television and hotels, let alone emulate them. Garbage from above could only take you so far after all.

Still, monsters remained a peaceful bunch and forgone copying humanity's less...'savory' developments. Part of Galileo wanted to resent that fact. "Makes me wonder if making peace with the humans is worthwhile, let alone possible."

No response came. Curious, the cat professor looked to the side and noticed Asgore's sudden absence, and then over his shoulder to discover the monarch had stopped a few feet behind. Asgore had his eyes on the ceiling – on the surface – face torn between hope and fear.

"Sometimes I wonder the same."

Galileo's face softened before he looked away to the glowing mushrooms and rubbed his nape with a sympathetic sigh. "To be fair, the ones responsible for our predicament did perish long ago. To hold it against their descendants would be as erroneous as it'd be pointless."

Asgore fixed a faint smirk on the feline. "Aren't we wise? Still," his face grew serious again, "we mustn't let our guards down. I already ordered Undyne and her Royal Guard to keep everyone close to the exit until Toriel and I have made contact with the humans."

Wagging a finger, Galileo smirked. "Now who's being wise? Where is that wisdom when it comes to your creativity?"

Asgore bit his bottom lip. "My sense of naming isn't that bad." The deadpan stare Galileo gave him deserved a place in the history books. He coughed into his fist. "I-In any case, let's focus on getting out of the cold for now."

Galileo eyed the larger monster with pure amusement yet chose against commenting – for now.

Once again, silence dominated the men's journey save for their brief cross through Snowdin, where they politely returned the cheery greetings of the remaining residents. A few more pathways down the mountain and through the thick Snowdin forest later, the duo finally reached the lone house, where Galileo produced his key and opened the door.

When warmth greeted them the moment they stepped inside, Asgore sagged in relief. Despite his bountiful fur protecting him from the harsh chill, he hadn't been able to avoid trudging his massive feet through the snow. The goat man shook them to dispel the lingering slush. "Perhaps I shouldn't have gone out to visit in my armor," he mumbled to himself.

"Then consider yourself fortunate I keep this house enchanted to retain heat," Galileo rebuked in a concerned though not surprised tone, "Don't you have anything else to wear besides that?" He stuck an open hand at the monarch's attire.

Thank magic I have fur thick enough to cover blushes, Asgore mused in embarrassment. "I do, but I suppose my eagerness to see you caused me to be hasty." He let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Serves me right, I suppose."

Classic Asgore. Galileo rolled his eyes, but could not squash down his amused smile. "I'm sure your discomfort serves as discipline enough." Extending a hand, he gestured the larger monster to take a seat. "Now please, do make yourself at home. I'll see if I can't whip up some tea for us both."

Apparently not as the venture turned out. Fortunately, Galileo kept plenty of cherry cider in stock as well as Cinnamon Bunnies so in minutes, he and Asgore sat together on a cozy brown sofa, bundled up to their necks in multi-colored blankets, while a magical fire roared in the fireplace before them.

Galileo had already discarded his trench coat and shoes at the rack by the door, revealing his low-cut navy-blue vest, crimson sash, medium blue slacks, and periwinkle dress shirt complete with golden buttons, the top one studded with a red rhinestone. Asgore had shed his armor and cape and crown onto the rack as well, leaving himself in only a black full-body under-suit.

The monster king sighed in content, grateful for this reprieve with his oldest friend. The last time they shared such a moment felt so long ago, not that this surprised the caprine giant. With everything the kingdom had to endure before the Barrier's destruction, one could hardly wonder at what little free time the two men had at their disposal. Now with the Barrier no more, no one could say for sure what hardships awaited on the surface.

That thought left Asgore with another worried frown. He sneaked a glance at Galileo, noting the cat's calm demeanor, then pressed his lips together, not sure how to breach the following subject. He opened his mouth—

"Toriel called me."

Oh. Asgore left his mouth agape, shocked. Galileo shut it with one hand without looking. Asgore fake-coughed to clear away some of the awkwardness and tried to focus on his second-to-last Cinnamon Bunny. "I...I see. What did she speak with you about?"

Galileo shrugged as though he hadn't just dropped a bomb the size of the CORE. "Enough: news about the barrier's destruction; plans on how to introduce us to the humans; reminders to behave myself." That same sardonic smirk crawled across his face. "Almost like old times."

Old times. Asgore put the cup to his face to hide a sullen frown. As if any of them could ever go back.

"Go on."

The goat man turned to his friend, confused by the blunt command. "Hmm?"

"You want to know, don't you?" Galileo settled a hard half-lidded stare on him. "How Frisk deterred my 'drive' for revenge."

The king rubbed a nervous thumb up and down the handle, not meeting the feline's gaze. "You needn't share if you don't want to." Especially if doing so would only invoke bad memories.

Yet Galileo shook his head, eyes adamant. "No. If I don't tell someone soon, I'll most likely implode."

Asgore set his cup aside and gave the cat his full attention. "Then please. Start from the beginning."

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**If any of you want to see more of this, just say the word!**


	2. Too Merciful

**Still having writer's block, so I thought I'd upload this next part.**

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_A few hours earlier..._

Galileo—or better yet Kuiper for this instance instead—seated in a black rotary office chair, shook his head at the antics he'd witnessed on the multiple screens before him.

He suspected Mettaton would turn AWOL on Alphys' half-baked plan at some point. The ghost-turned-machine had too much pride to settle for the role of false antagonist.

Not that Galileo could blame him. Alphys should have known better than to sink this low—and just to impress some stranger that will surely forget her the moment they take Asgore's soul and pass the Barrier, no less. Though to be fair, considering her current situation, the young monster probably needed all the positivity she could get. Kuiper just wished she didn't think this subterfuge as a necessary means for that.

Regardless, this child must be stopped.

A few flicks of the switches on his panel and the layout changed completely, leading the human all the way back to the first elevator. They took in their surroundings in confusion for a moment before taking the right path. Where there had once been a pit of fire, a trail of blue holographic panels led from the platform Frisk stood on to a pair of glowing cyan doors. Steeling their self, the seventh soul braved the path and approached.

**_Beep-beep beep! Beep-beep beep_** went the alarms the moment the doors slid open to allow Frisk in. A furry finger pressed a green button, silencing the sound. A ready breath streamed from Kuiper's nose, the professor's eyes closed. Moments later, his sensitive ears upward at the sound of tiny feet against the floor.

As Mettaton would say, let the show begin.

Kuiper turned his head ever so slightly. "I've seen how you've progressed throughout your journey. I'm almost impressed."

As expected, the Angel of Prophecy remained silent as they stood in the doorway, face gentle yet determined. With a harrumph, Kuiper arose from his chair and faced the child, arms behind his back and eyes cool. "However_,_" green light lit up beneath the professor's feet, "your performance so far has lacked one important quality."

The door behind Frisk suddenly slammed shut, the child flinching at the sound. That's when they noticed the light had now extended to all over the floor until it resembled a giant grid, the lines' glow bathing everything in it an eerie emerald. A dark chuckle returned their attention to Kuiper, whose eyes seemed to radiate the most in the darkened room.

"Mercy. Or rather mercy with limits which is why," he raised his left hand, fingers poised. Every part of him delighted in how Frisk tensed in anticipation as their red soul manifested, "I would like to see your resolve in action."

_Snap!_

Instantaneously, the grid column leading from Kuiper to Frisk flashed green numbers all the way up to a faintly sparkling barrier Frisk hadn't noticed before, one that encompassed the entire grid's perimeter. Before Frisk could wonder the form of this attack, the numbers started going red one by one, this change coming at the child with breakneck speed, a trail of electricity shooting straight to the ceiling! Frisk barely managed to dodge to the right before the changing trail reached their previous spot. They could feel the ends of their hair stand up as they flinched at the heat.

And that had only been the first wave.

A second one emerged from the side, the horizontal line catching Frisk off guard just long enough to catch them in the electricity, making the child grit their teeth in pain as it shaved off a chunk of their HP. Slightly smoking from the attack, Frisk managed to get back on their feet and pick ACT.

Maybe if they tried talking things out with him...

"Do you honestly think words will make a difference," the cat gentleman coolly retorted, "or are you merely buying time to wear me down until I quit?" That tactic may have worked with Papyrus and Undyne but Kuiper would have none of that nonsense. With another snap of his fingers, the third wave came from two directions this time: diagonally from the upper right corner and upward from the center bottom.

Frisk, more alert, braced their self and quickly slipped to the left square, bypassing the double attack. They reached for ACT again in hopes of talking the professor into letting them go but to no avail. If anything, that move only seemed to irritate the man for the next streams of numbers streaked into existence to form their own grid, forcing Frisk to mind their step—multiple times in fact.

In the end, the seventh soul got through the barrage without getting hit.

Kuiper scoffed before raising both hands, pointer fingers out, and swung them apart like a conductor. On cue, the gridlines disappeared from the floor and reappeared on the conjured walls, where the numbers materialized and started to shoot out to opposite sides of the cage.

This part Frisk ended up struggling on for the numbers moved so fast and from so many directions at once. On one turn, the young one accidentally committed a misstep and wound up in the path of an oncoming three. Impact came swift and merciless as Frisk went flying into the other numbers, pelting the child hard and sending them flying back and forth like a tennis ball.

All the while, Kuiper watched nonchalant and unimpressed. After a few seconds of watching the senseless beating, he deemed the punishment sufficient and called off the numbers with a single wave of his hand. Frisk plummeted to the floor with an agonizing thud and faint grunt, their HP now at 1. With great effort, the child struggled to push their torso up from the ground, head hanging.

Kuiper shook his head, tsk-tsking. "Sparing your enemies can only work for so long, little one," he warned in a detached tone, "sometimes you must take the path of force. After all, many out there will take any opening they can find just to win. So," his smile dripped with sarcasm as he extended his hands out, "shall we continue or do you wish to concede to the truth in my words?"

Frisk raised their head and locked eyes with the professor, their gaze full of Determination. Mustering their will, the seventh soul shakily but surely got back on their feet and shook their head before producing a Starfait from their pocket and downing it, replenishing themselves to 15 HP.

Kuiper arched an eyebrow, hardly surprised by this child's amount of gumption. Begrudgingly impressed even. He snapped his fingers once more, and at his command green binary 0's and 1's faded into existence over the tiles, which had returned to the floor, until they formed a sort of maze.

At once, the numerical labyrinth began to move Frisk's way. _Fast_.

Wasting no time, the human took a quick step forward then sidestepped into a gap between the numbers, making sure to avoid letting the digits trap them against the wall. Despite a few painful hits to their soul from bumping into the numerical walls, Frisk remained firm and eventually emerged from the maze, battered but still standing.

Amazement registered across Kuiper's face but he quickly buried it underneath cool disregard, increasingly fascinated. Just as the other monsters had said, this child had more skills than their appearance suggested. Nevertheless they could not keep these evasive tactics up forever. Sooner or later, they would run out of items. Indeed Kuiper watched as Frisk produced a Bisicle and bit off half of it, restoring their HP to 17.

Once Frisk pocketed the item again, their opponent waved his left hand and replaced the grid with a circular Cartesian plane. A sudden familiar feeling overtook Frisk and when they looked down they discovered their soul had just turned green, just like in their fight with Undyne. What's more, their current position coincided with the plane's origin. Kuiper chuckled at the way the child jerked their head back and forth in an attempt to understand this move.

_Let's see if your skills triumph over this._

Numerous orange and some blue spheres appeared all over the plane and, like the number maze, began to speed towards Frisk, who faced the oncoming projectiles with a ready smirk. Four units left, five units right, ten units left, one unit left, six units right—at Kuiper's command the circle rotated until the projectiles' movement changed from vertical to horizontal—back to the origin, five units down, seven units up, two units up, three units down—back to vertical—three units left, eight units right, one unit right—horizontal again—nine units up, two units down, five units up.

And Frisk dodged everything.

Despite his calm façade still being intact, Kuiper could feel his tail wag in jubilance at the rising challenge. With a greater flourish, he clapped his hands with an air dripping in resolution and willed the plane away in place of green sword-shaped silhouettes that shimmered into existence around Frisk, pointed ends aimed to the ground. Slowly at first but then faster and faster as time went on, until they became a blur, the weapons drifted round and round, bright blue alternating across the blades with increasing frequency.

Frisk eyed the spectacle warily, struggling not to get dizzy from watching it, and braced for the next attack. Were those things starting to change angle? When the swords came to an abrupt halt, Frisk realized with alarm that they _had _changed angle because now their blades all pointed in the child's direction, ready to come flying inward like massive hornets.

The seventh soul was sadly mistaken.

With one hand balling into a fist and raising skyward, Galileo brought that fist down into an open palm hard.

**_BZZZZZZKKTT!_**

Before Frisk could even blink, emerald electricity arced from the silhouettes' blades and converged on them in a blinding flash, too fast to dodge and too many to avoid all at once. Frisk raised their arms in a defensive stance in preparation for the incoming agony.

Nothing came.

To Frisk's shock, a yellow barrier had erected itself around the child just before the attack could touch them, the transparent walls wavering at the force of the energy yet standing firm. Over the din of the electricity striking, Frisk swore they heard the professor murmur something that sounded much like 'classic Alphys'. Eventually, the attack subsided and the silhouettes vanished, completely drained of their magic.

The feline scholar crossed his arms with a faintly amused smile. "Despite my defenses blocking her, her devices take up the task of disobeying me instead. Your charisma knows no bounds, doesn't it? Fair enough."

That's when Frisk, in realization, looked down at the pocket that contained the cell phone Alphys upgraded for them and pulled the device out just in time to see its screen fading way from yellow. A grateful grin crossed their face at the thought of Alphys still looking out for them, even after everything.

Kuiper balled his hands again, the same electricity from before crackling around his thick arms, as his face set in calm resolve. "Consider yourself in the home stretch."

The scent of ozone and mango tea filled the air.

Kuiper undid one of his fists into a clawed gesture and between those fingers the energy started to culminate and take shape into the same silhouette from before—only now it solidified into an actual sword, the blue/green blade now metal in place of light; the guard composed of two dark-green number ones; a convex hilt of the same hue; and a zero-shaped end. All the lights in the room forcibly glowed in a fiercer shade of green, adding surreality to the professor's demeanor.

Frisk resisted the urge to gulp.

"Now that I know your pacifism is no act," the cat struck an offensive position as his voice became pure ice, "what's say one last test, to demonstrate the extent of your capacity to show mercy?"

Frisk never got to nod in agreement. They barely managed to dodge the sideswipe in time; Kuiper came at them so fast!

"That tactic only prolongs the battle, child," the feline monster admonished in a cool tone before diving towards Frisk again. Though the child's evasion spared them serious injury, the tip of the blade still managed to score a cut on their right arm, the slash causing Frisk to grip that limb in pain. Kuiper gave them no time to recover.

No more turn-based battle.

No more Mercy.

Just slash. Slash-slash-_slash_ and _SLASH_.

Alas Frisk could only dodge, the fatigue building and building for them while their older opponent hardly seemed to tire at all. In fact, this one-sided fight only seemed to fuel Kuiper even more for though his face started remained composed, a light full of Determination began taking over his green eyes.

Except he seemed to hold back at times—and Frisk knew why: Kuiper wanted them to fight back. Despite knowing better, they leaned a hand against the makeshift barrier to catch a quick breath and produced a slice of Butterscotch Cinnamon without looking. For some reason, Kuiper's face softened a bit at the sight of the food, only to grow surprised then stoic again as though in denial.

Denial of what, Frisk wondered. Did the pie remind him of someone? Frisk suddenly smiled as they proceeded to eat the slice. They knew what they had to do.

Kuiper's face twisted when Frisk, now fully healed, took out their stick and gently tossed it to the ground. The feline regarded the discarded twig then the child with nothing short of puzzlement and a twinge of insult. "So, you wish to continue this display of hypocrisy." An arrogant chuckle emerged from him. "You humans. Putting so much stock into mind games to escape your own emotional inadequacy. Oh yes, you should know all about that, how your kind does not need compassion to survive."

With a false gaze of pity, he put a hand to his chest. "How you can easily slaughter without remorse, delighted by the thrill of taking another's life, and then turn around and do a mere act of mercy, thinking that alone will spare you of the consequences." He shook his head. "In a way, it's almost laughable."

Frisk did not respond, face resolute.

A frown took over Kuiper's face at how Frisk refused to take the bait. Instead, the next few moments passed in tense silence as neither human nor monster made a move.

Eventually, Kuiper shook his head in disbelief. "You're just that incorrigible, aren't you?"

This time, Frisk _did _react but not in the way the cat monster expected.

Taking one step forward, the child smiled tenderly and opened their arms to beckon the man for a hug. A _hug._

Such a simple pure act of affection left the most accomplished known monster in the Underground speechless.

Until at last he reared his sword upward, face so set in violent anger that Frisk drew their arms back in out of bracing for another attack. Instead Kuiper, breathing through gritted teeth, threw the sword to the ground with a resounding clatter, the blade and hilt dashed to numerical pieces and shimmering away right after. While the barrier around him and Frisk followed suit, shattering into glimmers instantaneously, the feline scholar fell to his knees and gripped his head in despair and confusion, eyes tight shut as if in denial.

"I don't understand," he murmured shakily, "I just don't."

That's when Frisk gave the final bow.

Kuiper flinched at the feel of small arms encompassing his chubby midsection, his own arms spread out, neither returning the hug nor rejecting it. Logic failed him. None of this made any sense, not with his previous observations. So he waited with his arms still awkwardly out for something bad to happen.

Nothing.

_This...That's all? Is that all this human wants from me? I suppose this could be worse, but do they expect me to return it? _

With extreme nervousness, Kuiper slowly wrapped his arms around Frisk, the thick limbs cushioning the child against his soft torso, the scents of ozone and mango tea from before calmer and gentler on their nose. The young one's cheek felt the professor's chest rise and fall from the man's steadying breath.

After a while, Frisk undid the hug and stepped back an inch before reaching into their pockets and taking out another slice of Butterscotch Cinnamon Pie. With a tender smile, the child offered the piece to their former opponent.

Kuiper..._Galileo_ could only blink, speechless. A weak and unsure chuckle eventually escaped as he gently shoved the food away before standing up. "I—I appreciate the gesture, but you may need it more than me."

Frisk acquiesced with an easy nod, not offended at all.

Running a hand over his head to smooth back the fur there back into place, Galileo shuffled his feet with a sniffle. He regarded Frisk with a sheepish face. "I don't suppose it's too late to apologize for my behavior. That wasn't the best first impression I've left on a child, after all."

When Frisk gave an assuring smile, Galileo returned the countenance in meager relief. "In that case," he swept an arm across his chest and bowed his head, "please forgive me for the outright hostility. My experiences with humans have often been less than favorable in the past."

Frisk's eyes lit up in remembrance.

"Ah yes, you've read up on our people's history, haven't you? Unfortunately, not many records from before our imprisonment exist; most of them were lost in the preceding war. Almost feels like luck that only a few of us still live to remember that far back." Noticing the child's sympathetic expression, the cat monster cleared his throat. "Of course, we've had a good deal of success in recounting what we can remember."

_For better or worse_, he mused bitterly. He schooled a calm smile. "But that's enough talk about the past. It would seem the Angel of the Prophecy has bested me after all. I suppose you'll be off to contend with Mettaton next."

Frisk gasped in surprise. Galileo chuckled and gestured to the screens he'd been watching before the battle. "I have two main surveillance stations from where I can examine everything in the Underground: here and another one in a cave right outside of Snowdin, the latter of which you were just outside of for just a moment. If you recall, you met a monster by the name of Gyftrot just outside it."

Frisk perked, remembering the reindeer-esque monster they helped out once.

"As you can imagine, I've been able to track your journey the moment you stepped out of the Ruins, much like Alphys. Speaking of whom, you've probably noticed her charade by now." A sad and disappointed look took over Frisk's face yet held no disgust or anger, much to the professor's surprise. His brows creased and head tilted. "Are you not upset by her tricking you?"

The child nodded but then fashioned their hands into a heart.

"Yet you're still willing to forgive her." A soft 'heh' escaped the cat. "You really are a strange child. Who knows, perhaps that aspect could be what leads to freedom for us after all." Frisk smiled with untold optimism, one that reminded Galileo so much of Asriel. The bookish feline adjusted his monocle with an air of finality. "In which case, you best be on your way. It won't do to keep Mettaton waiting. You're free to come back, though, in case you need advice. It _is _one of my jobs, after all."

The seventh soul disarmed him with one last grin and hug, one he returned without hesitation this time, before skipping off to the exit and waving goodbye.

Despite everything, the feline scholar waved back.


End file.
